The First Stranger
by JJAndrews
Summary: For Bartholomew Harris it was an honour to fight for King Henry the Fifth. Yet, while fighting at Agincourt he was pulled away from the world he called home and the family he loved and thrown into a world of monsters, dwarves and wizards. Desperate to find ancient records that may take him home, he agreed to join a small band in a quest. To make it home he will do anything.
1. Chapter 1

The First Stranger

I do not own the rights to the Hobbit

Chapter One

The tale you are about to read is in many ways extraordinary. Although it has been over sixty years since these events happened I remember them as if they happened only a day ago. I know that some details will be hard to believe. Anyway, I suppose a good place to start my tale would be at the beginning and my name.

My name is Bartholomew Harris, son of Phillip Harris and faithful servant of His Majesty Henry the Fifth, King of England and claimant to the throne of France. Many long years ago I, like many others, joined our king when he raised an army with the goal of claiming France, a country which rightfully belongs to him.

My castle was fairly small compared to some. There was a single, large stone tower which was surrounded by four large stone walls. In the space between the tower and the walls was a large garden and, in one section, were stables. I stood by the door leading to the gardens as I watched a pair of boys fighting with wooden swords. They both had the same black shade of hair as I but one of them, the oldest by two years, had his longer.

The elder one swung his wooden blade at his brother who blocked it. The younger one then swung back and managed to hit his brother's fingers.

'Ow!' the older boy shouted and dropped his sword. 'You did that on purpose Daniel.'

'I'm sorry James,' his brother apologised and lowered his guard when his brother laughed and grappled his younger sibling.

'Hey! Not fair!'

'War's not fair!'

Although the two of them were fighting on the ground they were laughing and I chuckled at them. I looked up at the wall and saw a pair of my sergeants watching the fight with some amusement. I shook my head and walked straight towards them.

'That's enough you two,' I said and pulled James off of his brother.

'Sorry father,' James said to me as he lowered his gaze and his brother stood up.

'Just be grateful it was me watching and not your mother,' I told them and they nodded their heads in agreement. 'Remember, in a battle you have to use every weapon you have at hand. That does include your fists.'

James smugly looked at his brother in a way which said _told you so._

'Still though, I'd rather you used your swords in a fight. I broke my hand once in a battle.'

'Did you?' Daniel asked me, astonishment filling his eyes every time I told him of one of my battles.

'Yes he did,' a slightly stern voice said and I turned around. 'And I can tell you now he will not do it again.'

Walking towards us was a woman just a few years younger than myself. She had light brown hair and blue eyes.

'Of course not Myrtle,' I assured my wife and quickly hugged her.

She then looked at the two boys and shook her head.

'I swear to the Lord you two will be the death of me,' she said and crossed her arms. 'James, go and see the healer about your fingers.'

'It's fine mother,' he complained.

'It's only fine if the healer says its fine,' she said and James, knowing he was defeated, hurried back into the castle.

'Daniel, go and wash up before supper.'

'Yes mother,' he said and walked into the castle.

'Do you think they'll ever learn to fight properly?'

'I hope so,' I said and looked at her. 'Are you still worried?'

'Of course I am,' she said. 'I know you're a good soldier but this is still going to be a massive campaign.'

'Don't worry,' I said and placed my hand on her shoulder. 'When have I ever done something to make you worry?'

'Well,' she said and was about to list them off.

'Anyway,' I said and started walking towards the castle with her, 'what's for supper tonight?'

'Just the usual,' she answered.

'Nothing special for me as a going away present?' I asked.

'No,' she said and smirked at me. 'Well not for dinner anyway.'

...

Six Months Later-Saint Crispin's Day

I roared as I swung my flanged mace for what felt like the thousandth time that day. The head of the mace smashed into the helmet of the French knight and blood and bone splashed out onto my cuirass. The body joined the hundreds of others tangled together in the blood drenched mud. All I could see through the visor of my Hounskull bascinet was death. The corpses of knights, horses and commoners littered the ground, all of their armour, once shining and splendid, was stained red with blood. With a heavy sigh I rose my mace up again and brought it smashing down onto the collar bone of a knight. He moaned in pain and staggered backwards. I wasted no time. I swung my mace up with all of my strength and it collided with his bevor. The knight fell onto the ground and was then trampled by his fellow knights. Each time I swung my mace an enemy fell dead. I swung at another knight who blocked the blow with his shield. He threw himself into me and I almost fell if not for the knight behind me who steadied me. I swung down at the top of the shield and it shattered down the middle. With a triumphant grin and a swing of my weapon I caved in the knight's helmet. A tide of blood flowed out from under the helmet and down his cuirass as he fell dead.

A knight armed with a war hammer was coming at me now. I readied myself for the fight; I had to kill him quickly. The spike on his hammer could easily punch through my armour. He swung at me but I dodged just in time. I jabbed the head of my mace directly at his chest and it pushed him back a little. It was at that exact second that the air in front of me darkened. I hardly noticed it. I was too focused on killing another enemy. He came at me again and I stepped forwards.

The next instant I was caught up in a tunnel of dark blue light. Roaring, ice cold wind blasted past me and I was being pulled at lightning speed through it. I let out a silent scream and I did all I could to find solid ground to stand on.

Then it ended. I was thrown out of the tunnel and I hit solid ground, rolling across it before I hit a tree. Then I blacked out.

 **Well that was the first chapter. I hope you all liked it and I hope you review. I'm not sure when I'll update again but I'll try to make sure it's as soon as possible.**


	2. Chapter 2

The First Stranger

I do not own the rights to the Hobbit

Chapter Two

I awoke to the feeling of being surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows. When my eyes opened the light which hit them was too strong so I had to shut them. When I at last opened my eyes again I was able to see properly. I was in a fairly small room. The walls were made of a light stone and the floors covered by a rug. I was sitting in a large four poster bed with white sheets. Warm light flooded into the room through an open window with white curtains. I was wearing a white nightshirt and as to where my armour and weapons were. Before I could push myself out of bed, the rooms door opened and a woman walked in. She was beautiful and walked with an impossible grace. She was taller than most women, her dark hair was neatly combed and flowed down the length of her back while her eyes were shining bright. Then I saw her ears. They were pointed. Then I remembered the battle. In my mind I combined the elegant surroundings and what I thought was death together into the one logical conclusion.

'Oh Christ I'm dead,' I said out loud.

The woman looked at me with confused eyes for a moment.

'Are you feeling well?' she asked me. . 'I can promise you that you are fully alive though without any terrible injury.'

'Where am I?' I asked her.

'Imaldris,' she answered me and when she saw my confused face she gave its other name. 'Rivendell.'

'Am I far from Agincourt?' I asked her.

'Agincourt,' she said to herself. 'I'm afraid I have never heard of that place. I just came to check if you were awake or not. I think you should rest for now. I will be back later to make sure you are feeling well,' she turned to leave but stopped half way back to the door. 'Oh I almost forgot. What's your name?'

'Bartholomew,' I answered her. 'Bartholomew Harris.'

'Thank you Bartholomew. My name is Fardes.'

A few hours later I was leaning against the windowsill looking out at Rivendell. It was in a valley with waterfalls feeding a river. All the buildings I could see were beautiful and looked like they had been grown instead of built. I was lost in watching the city until I heard someone knock on the door.

'Come in,' I said as I turned towards the door.

The door opened and Fardes walked in and she was carrying a bundle of cloth.

'Bartholomew,' she said with a smile, 'my Lord wishes to speak with you. I have brought these clothes for you and once you're dressed I'll show you to him.'

'Thank you,' I said politely and I took the clothes. 'What is your Lords name?'

'Elrond,' she answered.

'Thank you,' I said to her. I had never heard of this Lord Elrond but I hoped he could get me answers.

From what I could gather I wasn't in France. Fardes accent wasn't French, it sounded English. I didn't know the terrain of France well at all but in the maps I'd seen I hadn't seen any place named Rivendell. As to her ears I just assumed that Fardes had some type of deformity.

She left the room while I got dressed. The clothes were a dark blue tunic, black trousers and sturdy black boots. The tunic felt a little tight on me, I had quite broad shoulders and the tunic was made for a man smaller than I. Once I was fully dressed I left my room and Fardes led me to her Lord. We soon left the small building I was staying in and walked down a path through some beautiful gardens and past some buildings. After only a few minutes of walking we passed a man and a woman. For a moment I thought they were normal people until I noticed that, they too, had pointed ears. The next people we passed were the same. They only glanced at me for a moment before continuing with whatever they were doing.

'Where am I meeting with Lord Elrond?' I asked Fardes.

'In one of the gardens,' she answered me. 'He has also arranged a light meal there. He assumed you would be hungry.' As she said that my stomach groaned a little. 'He assumed correctly.'

We then walked through a large building which I assumed was the centre of the town. After a while we walked into a courtyard with a large and ornate garden in it. A tree shaded some of it while flower beds filled the edges. Most of the garden though was a neat lawn and on the lawn, sitting at a large stone table, was a man. He didn't seem too old but he had the air of someone with decades of wisdom. He was reading a book which sat in his hands. He also had pointed ears like everyone else. On the table were eight plates holding different types of food. There was also a bottle of wine on the table.

'My Lord,' Fardes said and bowed a little as she approached him. 'I have brought Bartholomew as you requested.'

'Thank you. You may go now.'

'Thank you my Lord.'

Fardes turned to leave and I hovered where I was for a moment.

'Please be seated,' the man I now knew was Lord Elrond said to me.

I sat down opposite him and waited for Lord Elrond to start the conversation.

'I suppose you are wondering why all of the people in Rivendell appear different to you,' he stated. 'Am I correct?'

'Yes sir,' I answered him.

'Where do you think you are?' he asked me.

'Well my first thought was that I'd been taken captive and I'm being held for ransom. But since you don't sound French I can guess that I'm wrong there. In the end I have no idea.'

'French,' he said as if trying to remember a word. 'I've not heard of French before.'

 _This man's mad,_ I thought to myself.

'Lord Elrond.'

I looked over my shoulder and I saw a very out of place person walking into the garden. He was an extremely old man with a long gray beard and wore weather beaten blue-gray robes. In his hand he carried a long wooden staff.

'Mithrandir,' Elrond said and smiled slightly.

'I'm sorry I took so long,' he said and sat down at the remaining spare chair. 'Now then, have you told him?'

'No.'

'Told me what?' I asked them.

The two looked at each other for a moment and then the old man, Mithrandir Elrond had called him, looked at me.

'What I am about to tell you young man will greatly surprise you. In some ways you may think I'm lying.'

'Well I enjoy a good tale,' I said to him and smiled.

'How to say this,' Mithrandir said to himself. 'You, what is your name?'

'Bartholomew,' I said.

'Bartholomew, you are not in the world of your birth.'

What he said hit into me and I looked at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates. A moment later I felt a chuckle escape my lips.

'You're crazy,' I said and I crossed my arms.

'I am not,' he told me with utmost seriousness. 'The world you were born in and this world are connected by portals which open and close at random. These portals rarely open more than once in a man's life time.'

'Why should I believe you?' I asked him, as the possibility of him being honest started to take root in my mind. 'Give me some proof.'

The old man thought about it for a moment and he then stood up, lifted his staff up a little and then something astonishing happened. A spiral of white light surrounded the head of the staff and all of the torches along the walls around the gardens suddenly ignited. It was incredible, as if done by-by magic.

'Alright then,' I said and looked at Mithrandir and then at Elrond. 'If I am really in another world then how do I get back? I think my wife will start worrying soon.'

Mithrandir had sat down again and Elrond was the one who answered my question.

'You can't,' he said and I felt worry start to grow in the pit of my stomach. 'We do not know how to create the portals so we can't create a way for you to go home.'

'Rubbish,' I said. 'All of this is nonsense. Even if I believed you, which I don't fully anyway, there has to be a way for me to get home.'

'I wish there was a way Bartholomew,' he said and I started wishing I had my sword with me. 'If there was a way to create the portals at will I would tell you how but that knowledge was lost millennia ago.'

I was starting to feel frustrated at the two of them. They didn't sound like they were lying and Mithrandir's display had shown me something was strange here.

'There has to be a way home,' I said to Elrond. 'I'll find it.'

...

Later that day I was walking through Rivendell. It was a beautiful place where everything was created with the craftsmanship of centuries of experience. Lord Elrond told me that I could stay as long as I wished so I decided that I had to get acquainted with the place I was in. When I came to a terrace overlooking the valley I stopped to think.

'Bartholomew.'

I turned around and I saw Mithrandir walking towards me.

'Can I help you Mithrandir?' I asked him.

'Yes. You don't need to call me Mithrandir. I prefer Gandalf.' he responded and looked over his shoulder. When he spoke again his voice was much quieter and I got the feeling that he didn't want this to be heard. 'When Lord Elrond said that the knowledge of travelling between worlds was lost he wasn't being completely honest.'

'Go on,' I urged him as I found my curiosity increasing.

'Thousands of years ago it was rumoured that a being named Morgoth had discovered how to travel between worlds. He wrote his knowledge down but his writing were stolen from him by Elves,' Elrond had told me that his people were known as Elves. 'Eventually the writings were taken to a place named Doriath.'

'Then I know where to go,' I said.

'I'm not finished,' he stopped me. 'Doriath was sacked long ago by Dwarves. It is believed that the writings were stolen during the sacking. The evidence says that these writings were later taken to Erebor, a great Dwarven kingdom.'

'Are you telling me that my way home is in this Erebor place?' I asked and he nodded. 'Why do I have a feeling that you're about to tell me that there's something dangerous there?'

'A dragon,' he said and I felt my stomach drop to my boots. 'A dragon named Smaug has taken over Erebor. We have to find a way past him.'

'Is there a way?'

'Yes. I was stopping here on my way to a place named the Shire to meet with a small company of Dwarves. Our plan is to reclaim Erebor but it won't be easy.'

'And if I join will things be easier?'

'I think so. If you wish to join I'll be leaving in the morning. Do you want to come?'

'If it means I can see my sons again I'd fight my way into Hell itself,' I told Gandalf.

He smiled and chuckled a tiny bit at that.

'Good. Get yourself ready to leave in the morning. Lord Elrond has sent your weapons and armour to your room.'

'Excellent,' I said and smiled. 'I have a way home.'

 **AN: Well there's chapter two. I hope you liked it. So, what do you think of me involving the First Sack of Doriath? Is it a good idea? Still, I'll try to update again soon.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Thanks for your review.**

 **TheaDreams: Thanks for your review. So what did you think of this way home?**

 **Norma: Well, I have noticed that there aren't many fics with one male OC, in particular in this fandom. Thanks for your review.**


	3. Chapter 3

The First Stranger

I do not own the rights to the Hobbit

 **Before I start I have an announcement to make. I have published a Boromir OC story called "The Princess of Gwaintol" Check it out if you want to.**

Chapter Three

I whistled a little tune to myself as I walked along the paved path up to Bag End. I must have appeared as a strange sight to anyone watching. My large brown cloak was stained a little by travel and the weather while my sturdy boots were dirty. On my back, concealed under my cloak, was a large leather sack holding my armour while on the right side of my belt hung my trusty mace, ready to be used at a moment's notice. On my right was my sword. It wasn't my favoured weapon but I still liked to keep one on hand, just in case. I had spoken with Gandalf earlier that day and he had told me to go to Bag End that night, after giving me some directions. As I walked along the path I passed a Hobbit drinking from a large bottle and he eyed me with some confusion. Hobbits were strange to look at, similar in appearance to men but still different. They were short and had extremely large hairy feet while their ears were pointed.

I walked past a brightly lit green door in the side of a hill, for some reason the Hobbits of the Shire preferred to live in underground dwellings rather than in houses. I nodded to myself and walked towards the door before looking at the bottom. There was a mark on the bottom of the door and, confident that I had found the right place, I rang the bell hanging by the door. After waiting for a few moments it opened and a slightly confused looking Hobbit answered it for me. Judging by the way he was dressed he appeared to be getting ready for bed.

'Master Baggins?' I asked him to see if he was "the burglar".

'Erm yes,' he replied and I smiled.

'Excellent,' I said and crouched as I walked in. 'I was worried I had come to the wrong place for a moment,' I hung my cloak on a peg in the wall and left my sack, sword and mace under it but I kept my knife attached to my belt. 'I'm Bartholomew Harris, at your service.'

I shook hands with him and he still looked puzzled.

'I think you may be at...'

'Greetings.'

I turned to the direction of the noise and I saw an extremely old dwarf with a large white beard walking towards me. He seemed welcoming.

'Greetings,' I responded and we shook hands, I was still crouching. 'Bartholomew Harris.'

'Yes Gandalf told us about you,' he said. 'My name is Balin. I understand that you have a good reason to join us.'

'In some ways it's the same reason,' I said to him. 'I want to go home.'

After nodding his head in agreement he led me through Bag End to a kitchen and a pantry where I found another Dwarf. He was a little taller than Balin, was mostly bald and had tattoos on his head. 'This is my brother Balin.'

'Pleasure to meet you Balin,' I said and we shook hands, his grip was like iron.

'Good to meet you too lad,' he said and smiled just as two more Dwarves walked in.

They were both young and one had blonde hair while the others hair was black. Dwalin warmly greeted the one with black hair, putting his arm around his shoulder while I went to speak with the blonde one.

'Bartholomew Harris,' I introduced myself again.

'Fili,' he introduced himself. 'That's my brother Kili.'

'It's an honour sir,' I said as we walked to the kitchen where Balin was already getting things organised.

The doorbell rang again and Bilbo walked to the door complaining about how there were too many dwarves and men in his dining room. I decided to follow him to make sure if everything was alright when he opened the door and a small avalanche of Dwarves poured in. I couldn't stop myself laughing at the ridiculous sight and behind them, through the door, I saw the tall form of Gandalf.

'Gandalf,' Bilbo said.

'Hello Bilbo,' he said as the Dwarves struggled to their feat. When the wizard saw me he smiled again and walked in. 'I'm glad you found your way Bartholomew.'

'Well I thought I was lost at one point,' I said and then I went into the kitchen to help get the food ready.

...

As the dwarves carried the food from the pantry to the kitchen I spoke with Gandalf.

'Is everyone here?' I asked as he steadied the small chandelier holding candles which he had walked into.

'We're one Dwarf short,' he replied.

'Who?'

'Thorin,' he replies.

'He is late is all,' Dwalin told us. 'He travelled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come.'

'Very good,' I said and then went into the kitchen as Gandalf was offered a glass of wine.

The feast covered the entire table but I didn't eat as much as the Dwarves did. I helped myself to some cheese, bread, lamb and chicken, as well as a strange fruit or vegetable, I still can't remember which it is, called a tomato. I was sitting next to a Dwarf named Gloin who had a massive red beard.

'Damn good food,' he proclaimed.

'Yes these Hobbits seem to keep plenty of good food,' I agreed. 'So why are you in this group my friend?'

'I'm in this because it's right,' he told me. 'Every Dwarf heart was broken when Erebor fell. I'll make Smaug pay for his crimes against our people.'

'I'll do my best to help,' I told him.

'I hear that you think a way home's in Erebor,' he said to me.

'I know it's a small hope but it's my only hope,' I said and ate a tomato. 'I'll make it back home to my sons even if I have to smash through Smaug himself.'

Gloin boisterously laughed and slapped me on my back.

'I like you Harris,' he said. 'You got plenty of spirit.'

'Thank you Gloin. Do you have any family?'

'A wife and a son,' he answered. 'My lad Gimli.'

'I have two sons,' I told him. 'James and Daniel.'

'Well I hope you make it back to them. You'll be a hero after we're done.'

Just then the table was silenced as a Dwarf named Bofur tossed a hardboiled egg across the table at a massive Dwarf named Bombur. He deftly caught it in his mouth and we all cheered for the success.

'Well done,' I shouted and laughed.

I hadn't been to a meal like that one since before I was married when I and my friends would go into every tavern we could find and drink all we could. I was not that same young man though so I excused myself from the table after a while and went to speak with Bilbo. I founf him the entrance to the kitchen, watching as the Dwarves started to throw food at each other.

'I'm sorry for all of this trouble,' I said to the Hobbit.

'Why are you all here?' he asked me.

'You don't know?' I asked him, feeling surprised and a little annoyed at the wizrd.

'Nope.'

'I'm so sorry Mister Baggins I thought you knew,' I said and fished out my purse. I didn't have much money in it but I pulled out a couple of coins and passed them to him. 'As an apology,' I told him.

'Oh thank you,' he said and looked at them before passing them back. 'There's no need. Keep them.'

'I insist,' I said and made him keep them.

'Alright,' he agreed and slipped them into his trouser pocket.

'So how long has this place been in your family?' I asked him to take his mind off of the devastation in his kitchen.

'My father built it,' he explained. 'It's the best Hobbit Hole in the Shire.'

'He certainly did a good job,' I told him. 'Back in England most people try to show off when they build something but your home manages to impress without putting towers everywhere. I think this could be a better home than my castle.'

'Thank you,' he said and smiled, pleased to have his home complimented. 'Wait, did you say castle?'

'Yes. It was originally an old ruin from hundreds of years ago but my great, great grandfather rebuilt it. My family's lived there ever since.'

'Are you important at your home?'

'Fairly. I'm a noble and I mainly had to recruit men for my king's army.'

'Why are you here then?'

'It's complicated,' I explained. 'Let's just say this companies mission is important to me going home.'

'Fair enough,' he said and shrugged his shoulders. 'You said England. I've never heard of it.'

'It's a long way from here. With any luck I'll be able to start home again soon.'

'I hope you do Bartholomew.'

...

The meal had just finished and I was just clearing my plate when some of the Dwarves started throwing them around and started to thump the table with their knives and forks. I stood away from the table and backed against the wall to avoid getting hit by flying plates and bowls when they started to sing.

 _Blunt the knives_

 _Bend the forks_

 _Smash the bottles and burn the corks_

 _Chip the glasses and crack the plates_

 _That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

I started to hurry to the kitchen to try and save some of Bilbo's belongings before they were destroyed but when I arrived I saw that they were being cleaned and stacked neatly. When Bilbo arrived and saw all of his bowls and plates intact he was amazed and I couldn't help but laugh as they finished their song. I shook my head at their antics and laughed but our moment of mirth ended when someone knocked on the door.

'He is here,' Gandalf said seriously and I got a sense that our leader had finally arrived.

At once we walked out of the kitchen and into the hall by the front door. Gandalf reached the door and opened it. When it had fully opened I saw for the first time in my life Thornin Oakenshield. He was a typical dwarf with a face which looked as if it had been carved from rock. As he walked in I could see the years and struggles written into every move he made. His black hair was streaked with gray and he spoke with a confidence of someone who knew that they were the leader. I was reminded for a moment of King Henry before Agincourt. I suppose I was in a new band of brothers.

After he walked in, and after Bilbo got over the shock of learning that there was a mark on his door, Gandalf introduced him to Bilbo and I.

'So,' he said when he looked at Bilbo, 'this is the Hobbit?' he then walked past Bilbo and without looking at him he began asking questions. 'Tell me Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?'

'Pardon me?'

'Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?' he then looked at me. 'The knight I assume. What's your weapon? Axe or sword.'

'Neither,' I replied. 'I use a mace.'

'Are you good with it?'

'I'm well known for being able to crush a skull with a single blow. Is that good enough for our mission?'

He smiled and nodded his head.

'Certainly,' he said and looked back at Bilbo. 'What about you?'

'Well I have some skill at playing conkers but I don't see what that's got to do with anything.'

'Thought as much,' Thorin said and, while looking at Bilbo said, 'He looks more like a grocer than a burglar,' to which the others laughed.

We walked back into the kitchen and, after Thornin had been given a bowl of stew, the meeting started. I was seated next to Gloin again while Bilbo was outside of the kitchen.

'What news from the meeting at Ered Luin?' asked Balin. 'Did they all come?'

'Aye,' Thorn answered. 'Envoys from all seven kingdoms.'

'And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?' asked Dwalin. 'Is Dain with us?'

For a moment he did not answer and I could tell by his movements that the news wasn't good.

'They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone.'

'Isn't there anything we can do?' I asked him. 'I'm not an expert but for the task at hand we'll need all the numbers we can get.'

'You're going on a quest?' Bilbo, who was now standing by Gandalf, asked us.

'Bilbo my dear fellow,' the wizard said, 'let us have a little more light.'

Gandalf reached into his robes and withdrew a sheet of parchment.

'Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak.'

He layed out the parchement on the table and I saw a small map displaying a wountain and above it was the picture of a dragon. When I laid eyes on that image I gulped and suddenly it all felt so real. We were going to face a dragon, a creature of nothing but terror and darkness.'

'The lonely Mountain,' Bilbo read the name.

'Aye,' Gloin suddenly spoke up, 'Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time.'

Oin, a fairly old Dwarf, then spoke up.

'Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor the reign of the beast will end."

'So, what beast?' Bilbo asked nervously.

'That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible,' Bofur told him, 'chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.'

'Yes I know what a dragon is.'

'I'm not afraid!' a young Dwarf named Ori, declared. 'I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!'

Most of the others just told him to sit down but a few encouraged him; cheering him on but I was silent.

'The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us,' said Balin, 'we number just fourteen. And not fourteen of the best or brightest.'

After a moment of argument Fili spoke up.

'We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf!'

'And you forget,' his brother declared, 'we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time.'

'Oh well, no. I wouldn't say-'

'How many then?' Dori asked him.

'What?'

'Well how many dragons have you killed?'

An argument started after that and I leaned back in my seat, content to wait it over. Fortunately it ended quickly when Thorin yelled something in Dwarfish.

'If we have read these signs do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we take this chance to take back Erebor?'

Although I was not of his kind I felt moved by his speech and I too cheered in agreement.

'The Front Gate is sealed,' Balin reminded everyone. 'There is no way into the mountain.'

'That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true,' the wizard told him and pulled a key from his sleeve.

When Thorin looked at it his gaze was filled with wonder, as if he'd set eyes on the Holy Grail.

'How came you by this?'

'It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now.'

'What is this key for?' I asked Gandalf.

'These runes, Bartholomew, speak of a hidden passage to the to the Lower Halls.'

'There's another way in,' Kili said with happiness at finding this out.

'Well, if we can find it but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed,' Gandalf reminded the young Dwarf.

'This is getting better by the minute,' I said.

'The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map,' the wizard continued, 'and I do not have the skill to find it. There are, however, others in Middle Earth who can.'

Gandalf then explained to us that his plan will require a great amount of courage. In the end it would require intelligence as well as strength and skill with a weapon. When Dori realised that is why we needed a burglar Bilbo commented that the burglar would have to be an expert.

'Are you?' Gloin asked him and I rolled my eyes.

'Am I what?'

'He said he's an expert,' said Oin who I had just realised was hard of hearing because of the tube he held up to his ear.

The Hobbit of course quickly denied that he was an expert and more than that he claimed that he'd never stolen anything before. Many of the Dwarves agreed with him and, although I loathe admitting it now, I agreed as well. Another argument then started and I again chose to remain silent. The whole argument ended when Gandalf stood up and his shadow projected across the room.

'Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar then a burglar he is.'

 _Devils work,_ I thought to myself, suddenly wishing I hadn't left my mace by the door.

'Hobbits are light on their feet. In fact they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives the advantage,' he then looked at Thorin. 'You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company and I have chosen Mister Baggins and I have found a well trained warrior who will do whatever it takes to reclaim Erebor. There's a lot more to Mister Baggins than appearances suggest. He's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including himself. Thorin, you must trust me on this.'

'Very well,' Thorin said but I could tell that he disliked it. 'Balin, give him the contract.'

The old Dwarf handed a contract to the Hobbit who took it and started to read through it. I didn't pay much attention to him until he feinted.

...

Later that evening it appeared that Bilbo had decided not to come. I didn't blame him, it appeared to be a mad quest from the start. To be honest, I still question my own sanity to this day for agreeing to join the company. I stood in the corner of the living room with the rest of the Dwarves. Eventually they started humming something and found myself listening to the solemn word they sung with the reverence normally reserved for the Nicean Creed .

 _Far over_

 _the misty mountains cold_

 _To dungeons deep_

 _And caverns old_

 _We must away_

' _Ere break of day_

 _To find our long forgotten gold_

It was at that moment I saw movement by the passage way and I saw Bilbo there. The look on his face was conflicted. I could tell that he was tempted to join but something was anchoring him to this place. He didn't truly want to leave home yet something inside him was telling to take a leap of faith. The look on his face said it all. When Thorin saw Bilbo he gave him a dismissive shrug and continued with the song.

 _The pines were roaring_

 _On the height_

 _The winds were moaning_

 _In the night_

 _The fire was red_

 _It flaming spread_

 _The trees like torches_

 _Blazed with light._

At that moment I knew my path was clear. I had to go with them. I had to see my sons again.

 **AN: Well that was chapter three and I hope you liked it. I enjoyed writing it.**

 **Review Response:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Well hopefully this adventure will be good enough. My main concern with writing this is that it will just turn out to be a retelling of the story. That said, I have something planned for later which will no doubt surprise you all.**

 **TMI Fairy: Yeah I'm a bit of a history nut when it comes to weapons. I believe though that most knights did carry swords as a backup weapon in case their armour penetrating weapons failed them.**


	4. Chapter 4

The First Stranger

I do not own the rights to the Hobbit

Chapter Four

It was the morning after we had all gathered at Bilbo's home and so far we were making good progress along the road. To my surprise Gandalf had actually seen fit to provide me with a horse which he'd found wondering in the woods. I had named him Peter and we had so far had a relationship which hadn't been ideal. In fact he had thrown me off when I first climbed onto him but after a chastisement from Gandalf, Peter had started to tolerate me. Anyway, as we rode along, without Bilbo who had said he wasn't interested in coming after all, our conversation turned to the Hobbit. Most of our company agreed that he would stay in the Shire while a much smaller number decided that he would join us. In fact we had actually gambled on it. I assume that you can guess which side of the argument I was on.

'So tell me Gandalf,' I said to the wizard as I was riding next to him at the time, 'why did you want Bilbo Baggins to join us anyway? I doubt that Hobbits are creatures suitable to missions as dangerous as this.'

'In a way you answered the question yourself,' Gandalf told me. 'He is a Baggins on his father's side but his mother was a Took. Took's are the sort who would happily go on an adventure at a moment's notice.'

'I see,' I said as the answer was explained to me. I was about to ask him a little more but at that moment a sudden voice called out from behind us.

'Wait!'

My jaw dropped so far that I'm surprised it didn't hit Peter.

I looked behind me and saw Bilbo. He was wearing a red coat, had a large pack on his back and was holding onto the contract. I think that all of us were surprised that he had come after all. Our line of ponies and horses stopped there and Bilbo walked up to Balin.

'I signed it,' he said proudly and handed it to Balin.

After the older Dwarf examined it he nodded to himself.

'Everything appears to be in order,' said Balin. 'Welcome, Master Baggins, the company of Thorin Oakenshield.'

Some of the Dwarves chuckled and gave the Hobbit cheers but I just grinned slightly from pure surprise.

'Give him a pony,' Thorin as we started to move again.

In spite of his protests two of the Dwarves hoisted the Hobbit up onto a pony and, with some discomfort, he stayed on it.

'Come on Nori,' I heard Oin say. 'Pay up!'

Some of the Dwarves started tossing bags of money to each other.

'What's that about?' Bilbo asked the wizard. He was on Gandalf's left while I was on his right.

'Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up,' Gandalf answered him. 'Most of them bet that you wouldn't,' he said before looking at me and chuckling.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my last coins (although I didn't tell Gandalf about that), and I handed them to the wizard.

'You thought I'd come?' he asked the wizard with some surprise.

'I never any doubts my dear fellow,' he said and caught a bag.

...

We'd been travelling for days and days and it seemed as if God himself had decided to toy with us. The heavens opened and it rained and rained on us. The roads turned to mud and we spent most of our days with our hoods up and, in spite of our cloaks, we were constantly soaked to the skin. I hadn't been that cold and wet since I and my father had gotten lost in the woods when I was a boy one winter. We'd even lost two of our baggage ponies to a swollen river at one point and that had been a sad day. I noticed that Bilbo had been hurt by this. It seemed apparent that Hobbits weren't creatures who often saw animals dying in such a sad way.

Anyway, after a while the skies cleared and we had good weather. Our spirits rose slightly and we rode towards the remains of a farmhouse. We'd been riding for hours so we were relieved when Thorin announced that we'd set up camp there. However, Gandalf and Thorin had a brief argument about going to Lord Elrond for help. I considered backing up Gandalf but in the end I decided not to. Thorin, it appeared, greatly disliked Elves and nothing that Gandalf could say would change that. Furthermore, in some ways I was more of an outsider than Bilbo was and I knew that my advice wouldn't be welcome. In the end Gandalf decided to leave for a while, telling us that he was going to "look ahead".

A few hours later I was eating my bowl of stew and talking to Gloin.

'So anyway the outlaws were running through the trees and I with my men chased them on our horses. It didn't take long to catch up with them and then we put them to the sword.'

'Well done,' Gloin complimented me. 'Did you get back the tapestries they stole?'

'Easily,' I responded. 'They stole too much from the wagons to carry with any speed.'

The two of us chuckled at the story. However, our laughter was cut short when Fili and Kili, who'd been watching the ponies, ran into the camp.

'Trolls!' Kili shouted.

'They've got Bilbo!' Fili added.

I didn't fully know what Trolls were at the time but I'd heard the stories in England. No matter what they were they had Bilbo and I knew what to do. I grabbed my mace and, along with all the others, we charged through the nearby trees to the aid of our burglar. Eventually I saw the orange glow of a campfire and I hurried my pace, getting ready for my first fight in months. Kili burst through the trees before the rest of us did but as soon as I did I almost dropped my mace from the pure shock. The three Trolls were massive creatures, almost twice the size of a man with gray, leather like skin and huge, yellow teeth. Each of them stank terribly and the smell was enough to make men retch.

After a moment I had recovered from my shock, I raised up my mace and charged forwards. One of the Trolls swung its fist at me but I dodged out of the way and swung my mace down on its hand. It growled in pain and grabbed at me again but Gloin hacked his axe into the Trolls wrist. I ran up to it and swung my mace into its chest but the weapon just bounced off of its belly. I swung again but the Troll backhanded me and I was thrown through the air, nearly crashing into the fire. To make things worse I dropped my mace when I was hit so I drew my sword and charged straight back into the battle. I sliced a Troll across its shin and I ducked as it tried to grab me. I then stabbed it hand and quickly yanked my sword out of it and ran around it before stabbing into the back of its leg. When I tried to yank my sword out it didn't budge and the Troll moved away with my sword still in its leg. It then reached to the sword and pulled it out before throwing it away into the trees nearby. Before I could find another weapon the Dwarves stopped fighting and I quickly saw why. The Trolls had got a hold of Bilbo.

'Lay down your arms,' one of the Trolls ordered us. 'Or we'll rip arms off!'

Bilbo looked at each of us pleadingly yet none of us moved. Eventually Thorin reluctantly dropped his sword and the others who still had weapons did the same.

...

'For Christ's sake!' I shouted as I flinched from the heat of the fire below me.

I, along with several of the other Dwarves, were tied over the fire as the Trolls prepared to cook us. I thought grimly to myself that this mess couldn't get any worse, and it was not helped that the Trolls were arguing over how to eat us ranging from squashing us to eating us raw.

'Harris get your foot out of my neck!' Dwalin shouted at me.

'It's not in your bloody neck!' I shouted at him.

'It's my actually my foot,' said Dori. 'Sorry.'

'Come on we aint got all night,' one of the Trolls told them. 'Dawn aint far away and I don't fancy being turned to stone.'

I was hardly listening to them; I was more focused on the fire and the thought of not getting burned.

'Wait!' Bilbo shouted at the Trolls. 'You are making a terrible mistake.'

'You can't reason with them. They're half-wits!' shouted Dori.

'Half-wits?' asked Bofur. 'What does that mean? Us?'

'I meant with the seasoning,' Bilbo explained as he jumped up and moved towards the fire, still in his sack.

'What about the seasoning?' one of the Trolls, who was wearing an apron, asked with the tone of a painter who'd been told his art was bad.

Unfortunately for me the Trolls had stopped turning us over the fire just as I was directly facing it. The flamed leapt up at me and the heat was horrible.

'Well have you smelt them?' asked Bilbo and I looked at the Hobbit with confusion.

 _What's he playing at?_ I thought to myself.

'You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.'

At that some of the Dwarves grumbled in annoyance and I'm sure I heard someone shout "traitor".

'What do you know about cooking Dwarf?' a Troll asked him.

'Shut up,' another, the one in the apron, told him. 'Let the flurgaburburhobbit talk.'

'The, em, the secret to cooking Dwarf is em. The secret is to, em. The secret is to skin them first.'

'Shit,' I growled and looked down at the fire which seemed even closer.

They started turning the cooking device again and all of us started throwing ever curse word and insult at Bilbo. Some were even threatening to skin the Hobbit.

'What a load of rubbish,' the Troll turning us shouted. 'I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scarf them, I say, boots and all.'

'He's right,' one of them said and picked up poor Bombur. He dangled the Dwarf above his mouth and prepared to eat him. 'Nice and crunchy.'

'Oh not that one!' shouted Bilbo. 'He's infected. He's got worms in his tubes.'

The Troll threw Bombur away as if he'd been holding a bag of insects and looked down at the Dwarf with disgust.

'In fact they all have. They're riddled with parasites.'

'Even the man thing?' asked the one in the apron.

'Especially the man thing,' said Bilbo and we resumed our cursing at Bilbo.

The combination of the fire and the ordeal we'd gone through was distracting me from what Bilbo was doing. However, Thorin, thank God he actually kept his senses, realised what the Hobbit was doing and kicked one of his fellow Dwarves. At that we knew what to do. We all started shouting about our parasites and how terrible it was.

'What would you have us do then?' asked a Troll. 'Let them all go?'

'Well...' said Bilbo.

'You think I don't know what you're up to? This little ferret is taking us for fools.'

'Ferret?'

'Fools?'

'The dawn will take you all!'

I knew that voice and I found where it came from standing on top of a massive rock nearby. Gandalf.

'Who's that?' asked a Troll.

'No idea.'

'Can we eat him?'

Gandalf lifted up his staff and brought it down onto the rock and, with a flash of light, the rock broke in two. As one half tumbled away it revealed a glorious sight. Dawn. When the sunlight splashed onto the Trolls they groaned in pain and shielded their eyes as their skin changed into stone. After just a few moments they stopped moving and they were nothing more than lifeless statues.

...

'Thank goodness,' I said as I recovered my sword which was on the ground next to a tree.

Although my sword wasn't my favourite weapon I still preferred to have it at my side, just in case. I quickly walked back to where the rest of the company was and I saw them walking into a cave so I followed them inside. The stench was terrible and I had to cover my face with my hand. Still, my revulsion at the smell gave way to amazement at what I saw inside. Against one wall were piles and piles of treasure. Gold coins littered the floor with cups and bowls. They must have belonged to people the Trolls had attacked but, as they were long dead, they had no one to claim it. Gloin quickly organised them to dig a hole and put a small chest of coins in it. I however pulled out my empty purse and crouched down by the pile and filled it up with the coins. I examined one of them and I saw strange writing and images on it. I decided that when I made it back I'd say they were made by the Saracens.

I was about to leave the cave when I saw Gandalf and Thorin standing by a weapon rack examining sword.

'You could not wish for a finer blade,' Gandalf told Thorin before looking at me. 'Why don't you take one Bartholomew?'

'I've got a sword already,' I told him.

'One of these blades would serve you well,' the wizard told me. 'Besides, they can't be of any use in here.'

I looked at the swords and picked one up. Judging from the amount of cobwebs covering it the weapon had been there a long time but when I pulled it from the sheath the weapon looked like it had only just been forged. The shine in the blade was perfect. I looked back at the wizard and I saw a glint in his eye.

'I suppose it could be useful,' I told him and I took the sword.

 **AN: Sorry it took ages to update. So, what did you think of this chapter? I hope you liked it and please review.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **Kiya Namiel: Thanks for your review. What I'm trying to do is break a few clichés of this fandom, such as the OC instantly realising that Bilbo was playing for time and them happily choosing a weapon from the cave as their exclusive weapon of choice.**


	5. Chapter 5

The First Stranger

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Five

While we were dealing with the Trolls our ponies had bolted leaving us alone. Because of this in the days following our capture we didn't share many tales nor did we sing any songs in the evenings. The only thing we shared was the constant feeling of danger all around us. The only thing which served to lighten our spirits was the weather which improved a little but it didn't help much. Still, during that time I had started to regret some of my earlier feelings towards Bilbo. I regret saying this but for many of the earlier days of our journey I considered him to be little more than a hindrance like a clueless squire in his first battle but after his show of intelligence when the Troll's captured us my view had changed a little. I wouldn't trust him in a battle but I knew that on a mission such as outs skill at arms wasn't the most important thing. Every night when we made camp I practised with my newly acquired sword. It was an impressive piece of work. It was perfectly balanced and in many ways it was the best sword I had ever held. The blade was very simple in appearance without any pattern but it still held an elegance and grace to it. I had never been one to give a weapon a name, a weapon was nothing more than a tool designed for killing, but this sword seemed worthy of one.

One morning we forded a river and when we managed to push ourselves up the slippery bank on the other side I saw that ahead of us in the distance a wall of dark gray stone had appeared. Mountains stretched high into the sky and on their peaks was snow glinting in the morning sun.

'Is that _the_ mountain?' asked Bilbo.

'Of course not!' said Balin. 'This is only the beginning of the Misty Mountains which we need to go over or under the reach the Wilderness beyond. It's an even longer journey after them east to the Lonely Mountain where Smaug lies on our treasure.'

'Oh,' Bilbo said, suddenly seeming a bit like a child who had just been chastised by a parent.

A while later Gandalf started telling us of his plan for the next leg of the journey.

'We need food and more than that we need a place where we can rest in real safety.'

'Do you know I place?' I asked the wizard.

He looked at me and allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips.

'My dear Bartholomew, don't you recognise where we are?'

I looked around me but all I could see was the same terrain I had become used to since our journey began. I shrugged my shoulders.

'Can you just answer the question Gandalf?' Thorin said to him, clearly not amused by the wizard's riddles.

'We are at the edge of the Wild,' Gandalf explained to us. 'Ahead of us is Rivendell, the Last Homely House. Before I could assist you with the Trolls I encountered some friends of mine who rode on ahead to let Lord Elrond know we were coming.'

'The Elves may try to stop us,' Thorin quickly snapped at Gandalf. 'Do you really think they'll give our quest their blessing?'

'Let me worry about that Thorin. I'll do the talking.'

Still, we were not close to Rivendell and it would still take a long walk to reach it. We went over hills and had to navigate our way around bogs. It was tiring work but we had to do it. The only path was marked by white stones which we followed as best we could but some of them were covered by moss and other plants. Even though I had passed out of Rivendell before, probably by the same path we were now travelling, I didn't recognise it and the only member of our company who knew where we were going was Gandalf. As the sun began to set on that day Gandalf reached a fall in the ground and he smiled as we came level with him.

'Here it is at last,' he said and we looked over the fall to see a beautiful valley I remembered. Rivendell.

'Let's get going,' I said, suddenly filled with new vigour by the very air of the valley.

As we went along a zigzagging path the air grew warmer and the trees around us became Oaks and Beach trees which looked as ancient as the valley itself. I thought that perhaps they'd been there since the dawn of the world. By the time twilight came about we, at long last, made it to House of Elrond. We crossed a narrow bridge over a deep ravine to a circular courtyard where I saw a small group of Elves walking towards us.

'Bartholomew,' Gandalf whispered to me, 'I must ask you to remember that Elves and Dwarves have a troubled history.'

'I know that Gandalf.'

'And you must not forget it. Some of the Dwarves may cause some trouble and I doubt that Lord Elrond will be pleased with our mission.'

'What should I do?'

'Stay by my side and trust me.'

'Very well.'

We reached the end of the bridge and entered the courtyard where I realised that the leading Elf was Lord Elrond himself.

'Mithrandir,' Elrond warmly welcomed him. 'Sir Bartholomew.'

'My Lord,' I said and bowed.

Elrond looked at each of the Dwarves and when he saw Thorin he appeared surprised.

'Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain.'

'I do not believe we have met,' Thorin said to the Elf.

'You have the bearing of your grandfather. I knew him when he was King Under the Mountain.'

'Indeed? He made no mention of you,' I rolled my eyes at the Dwarf who seemed content with trying to anger Lord Elrond who then said something in Elvish.

'Does he offer us insult?' Gloin demanded.

'No Master Gloin, he's offering you food,' Gandalf explained and suddenly everyone was in high spirits again.

...

That night we dined in a lavish hall and told Lord Elrond what we had done in our journey. Needless to say he was concerned that Trolls had come down from the mountains. After that he asked to see the swords we had found in the cave and when I handed him mine he examined it.

'It's a fine blade,' he told me. 'I do not believe it was given a name or was used in any great deeds though. As far as I can tell it is but a normal sword from Gondolin,' he said and passed it back to me.

'With any luck I'll make it do a deed worth a name,' I said to Elrond.

After we had all enjoyed a good meal made by the superb cooks of Rivendell accompanied by the finest music Elrond could offer he asked us what we were doing on our journey.

...

'Our business is not the concern of Elves.'

I, Gandalf, Thorin, Balin, Bilbo and Elrond stood in a corner of the dining hall. Everyone else had left to get some sleep but we remained awake.

'Thorin you can trust Lord Elrond,' I told the Dwarf. 'When I came to this world I was welcomed here.'

'Just show him the map Thorin,' Gandalf told him, clearly irritated by him.

'It is the legacy of my people,' Thorin told Gandalf. 'It is mine to protect, as are its secrets.'

'Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves. You're pride will be your downfall. You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond.'

Slowly Thorin walked towards Lord Elrond and handed him the map. Elrond took one look at it and a questioning expression appeared on his face.

'Erebor. What is your interest in this map?'

'It's mainly academic,' Gandalf answered for Thorin. 'As you know this sort of artefact sometimes contains hidden text,' after the wizard and Thorin shared a glance Gandalf asked Elrond, 'You still read ancient Dwarvish do you not?'

Elrond studied the map for a few moments and then he said something in Elvish.

'Moon runes?' said Gandalf. 'Of course.'

'What are moon runes?' I asked him.

'Writing which can only be seen in the light of the moon,' Balin answered me.

'In this case you are extremely lucky,' Elrond told us. 'Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written.'

'Can you read them?' Thorin asked him.

'Naturally.'

He led us to a balcony nearby and looked up at the sky. There were a few clouds above us and one was blocking the moon.

'These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago,' he explained to us. 'It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines on us tonight.'

As he said that the cloud moved and we were bathed in moonlight. Elrond held the map up above him and, to my astonishment, silver text appeared on the map.

"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks,' he read, "and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."

"Durin's Day?' asked Bilbo.

'It is the stared of the Dwarves new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear together in the sky.'

'This is ill news,' said Thorin and I looked at him surprised. We'd just found out what we had to so. 'Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us.'

'We still have time,' said Balin.

'Only if we make haste,' I told him, suddenly the prospect of returning to my sons seemed real.

'We need to be at exactly the right spot and at exactly the right time. Only then can the door be opened.'

'So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain?'

'What of it?' asked Thorin although it was obvious he didn't care what Elrond thought.

'There are some who would not deem it wise,' Elrond said before looking at me. 'I suppose you have been given false hope over the ancient records which reside there?'

'Any hope is good hope,' I told him.

'What do you mean "not deem it wise?" asked Gandalf.

'You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle Earth.'

We left the balcony and Gandalf told Thorin, Bilbo and Balin to join the rest of the company while I was instructed to stay with him and Elrond. I walked behind the two of them listening to their talk.

'They're determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels he is answerable to anyone. Nor, for that matter, am I.'

We reached a large circular stone room which overlooked the valley. There was a stone table in the middle of the room and vines were climbing up the stone columns holding up the roof.

'It is not me you must answer to,' Elrond told him and then he nodded to the far side of the room.

There I saw her. A tall Elf woman with long blonde hair. Pure power radiated from her and I knew that I was in the presence of one who was impossible ancient and powerful. She looked at Gandalf with an amused smile.

'Lady Galadriel,' he said and bowed.

'Mithrandir,' she said and then followed it by something spoken in Elvish.

Gandalf responded in the same language.

'I had no idea Lord Elrond had summoned you.'

'He didn't. I did.'

This voice seemed colder yet held the same power. I looked to my right to see an old man with white hair and holding a tall staff. His robes were pure white and, even though he didn't seem dangerous, I could tell it would be foolish to cross him.

'Saruman,' Gandalf said and bowed.

'You've been busy of late, my friend.'

Gandalf turned to look at me.

'Bartholomew, can you wait outside?'

'Of course,' I responded and left.

For a while I stood outside the room but I heard them debating something. It seemed at first to just be the purpose of our quest but then it changed to something else. It seemed as if Gandalf feared there was a war coming. I spent most of the time studying the architecture but by sunrise I was feeling bored of all things. Boredom, as terrible as any battle as my father said once. Eventually though I saw an Elf hurrying towards me.

'Where are they?' he asked me.

'Who?'

'The Dwarves? Do you know where they are?'

'No,' I answered and we both hurried up the steps into the room.

The Elf was in first.

'The Dwarves,' he said, 'they're gone.'

...

A few hours later I had packed extra food into my bag and adjusted my cloak around me. I was ready to get going. I walked along a pavilion when I felt something in my mind. I looked around and I saw that standing close by was Lady Galadriel.

'My Lady,' I said and bowed respectfully.

'Greetings Sir Bartholomew,' Galadriel said to me. 'Why have you decided to join Thorin?'

'I need to get home,' I answered her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

'To your wife?'

'Of course.'

'Do you love her?' she asked me.

At that I didn't answer straight away I had to think about that.

'She is my friend, the mother of my sons, my confidant.'

'Do you love her?'

After perhaps a few moments of silence from my I answered.

'Have you heard of many arranged unions which always end with love?'

'Not too many,' she confessed.

'I love my sons though,' I told her. 'I'll go through anything which stands in my way of seeing them again.'

'Good luck Sir Bartholomew _Dadwen._ I must ask you to prepare yourself though. You may not find what you seek in Erebor.'

I didn't say anything to that. I simply bowed and walked away to join Gandalf before we set off after the Dwarves.

 **AN: Sorry this chapter took forever to do. I hope you liked it and I know what you're asking. Where is Radagast and the shoddy CGI rabbits? Well, I'm using elements from both the book and the films with this story.**

 **Please review and give me your thoughts.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Mission accomplished, clichés broken.**

 **Knowing Grace: I noticed that there was a shortage of this type of story around so I decided to write this. I'm really glad you've liked it so far and I hope you liked this chapter as well.**


	6. Chapter 6

The First Stranger

I do not own the rights to the Hobbit

 **AN: Sorry this took so long but now I'll try to update this as regularly as possible from now on.**

Chapter Six

Gandalf and I went after the fellow members of our company as fast as we could. Surprisingly enough, for an old man, Gandalf was as agile as a much younger man. We made our way along an extremely narrow pass, with Gandalf just ahead of me, we kept ourselves pressed against the cliff wall as the rain knifed at us.

'There is a cave ahead,' he shouted over the rain.

'Then let's get there now,' I said, hoping for some sanctuary from the weather.

'Do not make haste Bartholomew,' the old man snapped at me. 'These caves are not always abandoned.'

'Brilliant,' I sarcastically remarked.

Gandalf approached the cave first and took a quick look into it before quickly moving back into a place where whatever was inside could not see him.

'Goblins,' he grumbled and reached into his robes.

'And what are they?'

'Wicked and cruel creatures that delight in blood and torture.'

'How many?'

'Five and all of them are armed.'

'If I'm fast I can take them,' I said and pulled out my mace.

' _We_ ,' Gandalf emphasised, 'will take them all quickly after I use this,' he said and pulled a small paper cylinder from an inside pocket. He whispered something at it before throwing it into the cave and covering his ears.

'What was that?' I asked.

'Pardon?'

'What was that?'

'Pardon?'

Just then a bright flash of light blasted out of the cave followed by screams of Goblins.

'What was that?' I shouted.

'No need to shout my dear friend,' he said quickly as he drew his sword. 'That was a very good firework. Now you may fight them.'

'Thanks.'

I lifted up my mace and charged into the cave letting out a war cry with Gandalf charging in after me. Those Goblins were terribly deformed, hunched over creatures wearing poor armour and carrying rusted weapons but in numbers they would be a serious problem. In my life I had seen many things. I had seen the savages who ruled Jerusalem in place of His true servants, I had seen the heathens who ruled the lands around the Baltic, I had seen my own comrades in arms looting houses at will but in my life up to then I had never seen a creature so disgusting or brutal. With both of my hands gripped on the shaft of my weapon I brought it down onto a Goblins head and blood splattered everywhere in a spray of bone and gore. I swung three more times, killing two more Goblins as Gandalf killed the others with two quick sweeps of his sword.

'They shouldn't be here,' Gandalf said and was extremely worried. 'The Goblins have a town beneath the mountains but the entrance should be in a different pass.'

'Clearly they've made a new door,' I commented as I noticed a slightly open door in the cave wall.

'And look,' Gandalf said and pointed at a pile of bundles on the ground. 'Our companions may have made camp here.'

'Damn,' I cursed loudly. 'Gandalf, are we going into a battle?'

'I think we might be.'

'I see,' I said and took off my pack before pulling out my mail shirt and helmet. I quickly threw them on but I kept the visor up. I then put the pack back on and I got ready to charge into the battle.

'Come on,' the wizard said. 'Let's go.'

We rushed through the door in the cave wall and through a long, twisting cave system with the floor littered by bones and filth. We hurried through the caves as quickly as possible, rapidly killing any Goblin we came across. My mace was soon covered in black blood with shards of bone and flakes of flesh mixed into it. As the two of us rushed on I thought I heard a very foul, high pitched singing. Eventually we made our way to the end of the long tunnel and entered a massive open cavern deep in the heart of the mountains. In the heart of it all was a massive wooden platform suspended above the rocks which was covered with hundreds of Goblins, some of which were dragging up torture devices, but in the middle of the platform was a large, poorly made excuse for a throne, upon which sat massive, obese pile of fat and flesh covered with foul looking hair, growths, blisters and boils. However, of far more importance to me was the crowd of Dwarves being attacked by the Goblins. My companions were there.

'Come on!' I shouted at Gandalf and I hoisted my mace into the ait as I charged forwards but after only a few moments the wizards hand gripped my shoulder and pulled me back.

'Patients,' he snapped at me before taking a few strides forwards and lifting his staff into the air which sent out a massive pulse of bright blue light which crashed into the Goblins throwing them all down and then, all the shrieking and wailing died leaving nought but silence.

For a few moments this silence was unbroken as the wizard and I slowly stalked forwards with our weapons raised, ready for a fight. With both of my hands gripped around the handle of my mace I held my weapon up as the Dwarves started to steady themselves.

'Take up arms,' Gandalf told our companions with a will of iron. 'Fight. Fight!'

At that the Dwarves grabbed their weapons which were scattered around the ground by them and began to fight against their captors. I charged in roaring as loud as I could and I swung my weapon straight into the side of a Goblins head and almost smashed it clean off. For the next few moments I was caught in a whirl of steel and blood and I tore through the Goblin ranks, smashing them apart as fast as I could trying to end the fight as quickly as possible. Soon though we had to retreat for any hope to get out alive and we raced across bridges, the cave walls around us a blur as we tried to escape. I swung my mace and smashed a Goblin in its ugly face, splattering gore onto a nearby wall and then swung my fist into the jaw of another. Eventually, as I was at the back of the group, I faced a Goblin who actually had some strength to it. It swung its rusty sword at me and I had to dodge the blow which was followed by three others. Eventually I swung my mace but it caught my weapon on its sword so I quickly drew my sword from England with my left hand and stabbed it through the stomach killing it. Usually I didn't fight with two weapons, it was harder to control my attacks but I didn't have much time to put my sword back. I swung my mace hard at a Goblin which attempted to jump on us from the side knocking it back into the wall and then I cut halfway through the neck of another beast, spattering blood across my blade. Eventually we came to a bridge where, across it, I saw a long downward slope leading to a pair of stone doors leading to sunlight at last. Felling immense relief I followed my companions across the swaying bridge with a horde of Goblins right behind us.

'Cut the bridge ropes!' I shouted, deciding that it would slow the Goblins advance.

'No time,' Gandalf told me. 'They won't follow us into the sun.'

I took a glance at the hundreds of Goblins right behind us, all screaming in fury as they charged at us.

'Then let's go,' I said and, as myself, the wizard and the Dwarves prepared to run a mocking roar tore through the air and, out of a side tunnel, rushed the massive Goblin leader, who was looking both angry and joyous at catching up with us. In his hand he held a staff with what looked like scythe blades attached to the end. It was a crude weapon but it could easily kill.

'Not so fast,' the Goblin king declared and advanced on us but the wizard stepped forwards and swung with his sword but the Goblin king blocked the blow.

However, the beast was not expecting Gandalf's talents for magic. The wizard sharply jabbed the beast in the gut with the end of his staff and a loud crack hit my ears as, in a flash of light, the Goblin was hurled through the air and crashed into a cave wall, splitting the rock and a large boulder fell down upon our enemy crushing him. After that we charged down the slope, easily dispatching the few Goblins ahead of us, until we at last burst out into the sunlight. The ground beneath our feet was still wet from the rain and the air had a chill to it but the sun, oh I had never been so grateful to feel the sunlight kiss my skin. Still, we kept running on and on as fast as we could in case a few Goblins dared t brave the sunlight but still there was no sign of anyone coming after us. Eventually, completely exhausted, we all collapsed to the ground to get our breath. I wiped the black blood and sweat off of my face, feeling relieved that we had escaped. Balin volunteered to keep watch for us while the Dwarves told us what had happened to them. It turned out that while they were asleep in the caves the Goblins had ambushed them. However, just then Gandalf realised something.

'Where's Bilbo?' Where is our Hobbit?'

'I don't know,' answered Thorin, his voice filled with concern over the safety of Bilbo but there was some guilt. He was the leader of our company and now we had lost one of us.

'Was he with you when the Goblins took you?' I asked him.

'I saw him being dragged along at the back,' said Gloin quickly.

'Maybe he escaped,' I said and I threw off my pack, planning to get the rest of my armour on. 'I'll go look for him.'

'That place is overflowing with Goblins,' said Fili. 'We'll need an army to find him.'

Knowing how hopeless this was I threw down my mace in frustration and sat down, feeling terrible that he was lost to us forever.

'We can't give up on him,' said Gandalf and unlike me he still sounded hopeful.

'You don't have to,' a chirpy voice said suddenly making us all jump and raise our weapons to see, standing on a rock nearby, and with a smug look on his face, was Bilbo.

His clothes were a little more ragged than I remembered, all the buttons on his waist coat had been torn off and I noticed him tucking something into his pocket but I didn't think on it at the time, oh if only I had known all the trouble it would cause at the time. To say we were happy that he was alive was an understatement. At once we bombarded him with questions of his survival and after a minute he calmed us down enough for him to tell us of his trials of adventures in the caves below us. We listened on in amazement at his tale of the encounter with the creature Gollum. Before I respected Bilbo for his intelligence but now, but now I truly admired him for his tempered cunning. I know that if I was in his predicament I would have attacked the creature at first glance but, as it turns out, Bilbo's solution to the problem was much better. When we asked how he escaped he told us that he hid in the shadows, following Gollum until he had found the doors, tearing off his waist coats buttons to get out. After he was done explaining what had happened to him, and we did likewise, we decided to move on before nightfall came and the Goblins would come after us.

 **AN: I know this wasn't the longest chapter ever but I just wanted to get this out soon. As I said earlier I will try to update at a more regular pace and I'm so sorry this came out so late. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Also, I changed the death of the Goblin King from the one in the film because that was as stupid as the screenwriting for Kingdom of Heaven, actually that was an insult to the Hobbit, just mentioning them in the same sentence.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Thanks for your review. I wanted to make Bartholomew a realistic knight character for his time so I thought that adding that his marriage was not one of love was necessary. Oh and by the way, don't forget what Galadriel called Bartholomew, "Dadwen".**

 **Knowing Grace: I see that you're not a Tauriel fan. Personally I enjoyed Radagast that's mostly because I'm a Doctor Who fanboy. I hope that his reaction to the Goblins was good enough. I think that after his encounter with the Trolls he wouldn't be terrified of them and a character from the 15** **th** **century would compare them to "Heathens". Yeah the SJW's love me. Ha, ha, ha. I hope this chapter was worth the wait and met your expectations.**


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